Shoot the Moon
by lessxordinary
Summary: It was... the perfect summer. But you'll never know... how much you changed me. Forever. Jacob Black x OC


It was... the perfect summer.

I ran through the mountains that I loved so much. I swam in hidden streams, in secret places. I ran free, free-footed and free-spirited. I had no cares, no troubles. I had no one counting on me, no one to rely on. I was utterly free; but I was so, so lonely.

I played soft songs at night by my campfire, singing the old familiar lyrics that my daddy taught me. I managed to forget, as I always did, the trailer that would be waiting for me when I went home; the seven brothers and sisters that'd be whining and fighting for my attention.

And then I met you. Wandering, like me, running from all the things you couldn't change. I didn't doubt you, not for one moment. Maybe I was foolish. But it was a summer of perfect lies; I don't, can't, regret it.

You spoke to me, and I loved the sound. You came and went, like I did, but eventually you started coming a lot more than going. That was alright; being around you made me feel like I could run away from the bad parts of my life... but still keep some humanity. That I wouldn't have to be an animal to enjoy my freedom.

You were the first person I'd ever met who could race me up my mountains, whose feet could fly like mine, who understood the joy of soaring like I did. We ran so fast our feet never touched the ground; and I never, never wanted to come down.

We spent our days free and alive, hunting and laughing, swimming or running, climbing trees and rocks and watching the birds soar by overhead. We were both sun kissed children, in the glow of midday, laying in a field. Everything was so innocent; sun-dried hair, mine red, yours brown, pooling together in a field of violets. Your brown hand wrapped around mine.

You started staying longer, staying with me all night. I'd never wondered where you went, where you could possibly go, miles away from the nearest city, miles away from anything. But it never mattered; you were like a dream, a copper boy, a wood nymph, sprung to life from some strange stretch of my mountains. I didn't want to doubt you, so I never did.

The first time you kissed me, it was like Mamma's heaven. You were so warm and strong and rough and perfect. We would lay, entangled, staring at the moon, our mother, father, and friend. You would kiss me like you would never let me go. It was a summer of a thousand kisses.

But each kiss had a price. I learned more about you, each time you touched me, each time I saw you smile without really being there. I knew what the problem was; you told me everything, slowly enough. But it seemed like the months would stretch out for years; we had forever.

It was her, though. I could tell, when you got that far away look in your eye, or called me by her name. I couldn't blame you, though, I couldn't do anything but love you, love you and understand. She was your everything. And no matter how much I loved you, I could never replace her. Maybe I understood you too well, forgave you too much.

Because, you know, I gave you everything. I gave you my spirit, my songs, my freedom. I gave you my body, too, but it was hardly missed. I do miss my wings, though. Because I gave you those, too. And I let you fly back to her. I gave you everything I could ever have, would ever have, and I don't regret it. I gave you everything. And you gave me that perfect summer.

I don't know where you are now, or even where you came from. And maybe, somehow, it doesn't even matter. I let you go, told you to find her and love her, or try, if she wouldn't listen. I told you to come back to me, to find me, someday, running through the mountains where we met. You promised you would but... even at the time, I knew you were gone. I'd lost you because I loved you too truly; I wish it had been a selfish love. I wish I could have clung and cried when you left. But I didn't. I watched you go, and I smiled. I loved you too much to cry.

You left, and you took more of me with you than I knew I could give. I'm not empty without you; I still have our summer, and dreams of shooting the moon.

I wonder if you think of me. I never even told you my name, did I? I wonder if you know that I'm still wandering my mountains. That I will forever, after everything that happened. And that its your son who runs down the paths with me, as free and as wild as his parents were.

We're still waiting for you.

And we always will be.


End file.
